Page 39 of Forged in Rain

“Why him or why not me?”

“Both, I guess,” I say with a shrug.

“Rain, my loyalty to Cyn only goes so far as the school doors.”

“And I should trust him. Why?”

“Because this is his territory, and he protects what’s his,” he says, his eyes blazing with sincerity.

“Including me?”

“Including you.”

“Just last year, I was excommunicated or whatever,” I say sullenly.

“That wouldn’t have lasted,” he says, waving his hand.

“How do you figure?”

“Because it’s clear to see he’s hung up on you.”

Shifting uneasily, I curl my lip. “I don’t think so.”

“I do.”

“Oscar, do you think he’s involved in the prostitution stuff?”

Cocking his head to the side, he says speculatively, “No. That’s handled higher up the food chain.”

“Okay, thanks.”

∞∞∞

I meet the boys in the lot glumly, and we pull away to complete silence until Jig rumbles from the seat beside me. “What’s the plan?”

“Not here,” Cyn growls.

Dropping my gaze to my lap, I clench my hands tightly and fight the guilty urge to defend myself. I didn’t do this. Cyn did, and I’ve got to stop blaming myself for his shitty behavior.

Besides, the dick has some explaining to do.

Picking up my phone militantly, I dial the number from John’s book, watching Cyn through my lashes as he picks up a phone I’ve never seen before and hesitates. Bastion’s head flies up, and Jig tenses beside me before Cyn finally answers gruffly, and I say into the phone, “You’re a fucking baboon’s asshole.”

Cyn’s eyes shoot to mine in the mirror before he drops the phone to the console and pulls to the side of the road so suddenly, I fly against Jig, who grabs me up and then drops me as though burned.

“Where the fuck did you get that number?” Cyn barks and I raise my chin, although I know my lips are trembling. The guy looking back at me is not the Cyn I know, and there’s a darkness behind his eyes that’s got me shaking in my shoes.

“Answer me!” he bellows, and I shrink away.

“Cyn,” Jig says in a warning tone, but Cyn ignores him, staring at me with narrowed eyes.

“You better answer me, right fucking now.”

“I found it in John’s address book. Why does he have your number? How do you know him?” I demand, curling my fingers into my palms.

Cyn rears back, and although I’m pretty sure he’s a good actor, he looks shocked.

“John? Your uncle?”

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